


Roll of the Dice

by SixGoldenWings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bodyswap, Crack, Fluff, Humour, Multi, Sick!Dean, Wordcount 100-1500, human!Cas, kid!Dean, kid!Sam, prompts, vampire!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixGoldenWings/pseuds/SixGoldenWings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Dean-centric drabbles based on this post ( http://tmnt2k12.tumblr.com/post/38273741169/100-roleplay-scenarios-heres-how-it-works )</p>
<p>Theme, warnings and characters will be in each chapter title. </p>
<p>Cross posted to my tumblr</p>
<p>Warnings and tags to be updated as these get done</p>
<p>Snippet from no. 8;</p>
<p>"Gotta hand it to you.. This is one cute little bastard." Dean poked the creature with his finger and the little thing seemed to poke back with it's little paws, hands, whatever they were. "Feisty too." the hunter grinned as the thing clambered up his arm, setting itself on his shoulder to peer up at Sam. </p>
<p>If the Winchesters didn't know better they'd have both said that the thing was pouting. Dean made sure the little guy was gripping tight to the material of his shirt before wandering over to their bags, rifling through to get the creature something to eat. "Okay, so it's not dangerous right? Hate to have to gank the little guy." Dean said, grabbing a handful of M&Ms and giving the creature one at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Attack on Home base - Angst (Season 8) - Dean and Sam

"….No.." Dean cut the engine as soon as he saw the smoke. "God damn son of a bitch!" the impala had barely stopped before the eldest Winchester was out of the car, younger brother close on his heels. The entrance to the bunker was pouring ash into the open air, an orange hue casting shadows over the steps leading to the door. Dean had already shrugged his jacket off and was preparing to enter the bunker before his wrist was caught by Sam. 

"Dean! What the hell? You can’t go in there!" Sam’s words were directed at the older hunter, but his eyes were fixed on the door, obviously mourning their new home and the books and treasures held within. 

"Like hell I can’t.. Let me go Sam." The kitchen, the memory foam mattress, his robe, his slippers, his weapon collection, you could take all that away, he didn’t have it before, it hurt, but he could move on from that, but there was something more important than all of it, still trapped inside, something he could not afford to lose. Dean pushed Sam away and headed for the door again. 

"There’s nothing in there worth your life Dean! Snap out of it!" Sam grasped for his elder brother’s sleeve once more, determined to keep him out of danger’s way. The shorter man flinched away, bundling his jacket into his hands, knotting his fingers in the material.

"Mom.. The picture of Mom… I can’t lose it, Sammy.. not like this.." moisture in green eyes reflected the flickering orange light of the flames before he pulled the jacket over his head and headed into the smoke, determined to find the only tangible memory he had of his mother and bring it back safe. 


	2. Your Character is Kidnapped - Mystery - Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell all the drabbles are unrelated to each other, they're just the first scenarios that came into my head when reading the prompt. I'm using it as writing practice and I hope you enjoy them.

When the world came back to Dean, it was just mumbles, odd bits of sound that he couldn’t quite make out. The last thing he remembered was locking up baby and walking toward the motel room he was sharing with Sam, then nothing, not even an impact. He stretched his lips, rolling his tongue against the cloth pressed into his mouth, typical. He gagged briefly but forced himself not to panic before opening his eyes. The hunter took stock of where he had been dumped. Well, give whoever the hell this was credit, they had style. 

The room was downright plush, shag carpeting, chaise lounge, decent - if a little fruity - artwork, dark mahogony table, ornate lamps, the whole renisaince inspired works. Even the chair he’d been tied to was luxurious, solid wood, comfortable cushions, finally monsters/kidnappers had gotten their act together. Made a change from the usual warehouses and trunks of cars. 

The noises, voices, he assumed, were coming from behind an ornate door, . Twisting his wrists yielded nothing but a bit of rope burn and belated pain from the bruising he’d received being tied to the armrests so tightly. Well, at least he wasn’t dead. Yet. It was a small mercy, but whatever he could take from this, he was going to. 

Patience wasn’t exactly a virtue he’d learned in his years of hunting, but whatever had taken him had taken him alive for a reason. Dean could use that to buy time, time enough to escape or for someone to find him. All he had to do was wait until the son of a bitch showed their face. 

The voices came closer, approaching the door, green eyes zeroed in on the intricately designed door handle as it turned, opening the door to reveal his assailant. 

"Hello Mr Winchester.."


	3. Stuck in an Elevator Shaft - Comedy - Dean and Sam

"Oh hell no.." the hunter pressed himself against the glass wall of the elevator as it shuddered to a stop. He knew this was a bad idea, this had bad idea written all over it. Why the hell had he let Sam of all people convince him into walking into this damn death trap. The floor beneath him was glass too and around thirty stories beyond that was the side walk  "I knew it.. I freakin’ knew it" 

 _Deep breaths Dean, deep breaths, don’t look down, just close your eyes and tilt your head up. Kill Sam later, murder the son of a bitch in his sleep for convincing you to step foot into this damn cage._  Glass, freaking glass was all that was between him and going splat. “You’re a dick.. a giant fricken dick, Sam.” calloused hands were gripping onto the handrail so tight that surely he was denting the metal, but he didn’t want to risk looking down to check. 

"It’s-" Sam began before being cut off by the elder Winchester. "If you say anything like ‘fine, okay or perfectly-damn-safe..’ God help me, Sam. I’ll kick your ass." Since his eyes were still closed, he heard rather than saw his giant brother sigh, going to the button panel to try and call for help.


	4. Hand cuffed together - Comedy - Dean and Cas (mention of Gabriel)

Well this was just perfect. No. Really. Perfect. It had been on his bucket list to be angelically hand cuffed to freaking Castiel of all people. “I pray to the damned arch angel Gabriel, I will deep fry your scrawny little ass as soon as I get out of this. You hear me, short stuff?” Okay, so maybe he wasn’t taking it so well. The chain rattled as Castiel pulled the cuff closer to check the sigils for what must’ve been the fiftieth time. 

"Dean you need to calm down."

"I’ll calm down as soon as your asshat of a brother gets rid of these things!" The hunter gesticulated, pulling the chain taut once more. Blue angelic eyes narrowed at the human, despite not moving an inch, the pull of the metal had obviously annoyed him. The angel’s hand snapped out, gripping the hunter’s wrist and pulling it back down so that the chain was lax between them. 

"Calm. Down. I won’t ask again." Castiel’s fingers tightened briefly before releasing the Winchester’s now aching limb. "Your frustration will just entertain him, remain calm and he will quickly get bored." the angel’s rough voice instructed, no room for negotiation in his tone. Green met blue steadily, the hunter raising an eyebrow in challenge. Angel or not, actually, especially angels,  telling him what to do didn’t really sit well. A few tense seconds passed before Dean looked away again, kicking his feet up on the table in front of them. 

It only took a few minutes for the human to become bored, humming ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ under his breath to try and break the silence. The look Cas gave him would’ve been entertaining in any other circumstance, but now? Whilst they were trapped together like this? That look was damn near terrifying. Obviously this situation was annoying Cas as much as it was Dean. 

The hunter felt himself swallow involuntarily, the music dying on parted lips. Castiel’s eyes followed the bob of the hunter’s throat and then resumed staring directly ahead. 

"Thank you." 


	5. Sick - Fluff - Dean and Fallen! Cas (mention of Sam)

The third day was the worst. He couldn’t remember much of day two and knew day one had involved a lot of drinking, but the third day was definitely the worst. Dean could barely open his eyes, never mind talk and he had once cut off a cast on a broken leg  too early and walked the damn thing off. This was it. This would be how he would die. 

"Stop being over-dramatic." 

The hunter gave his best impression of a glare to the former angel sitting at his bedside, but as he could barely see the damn guy, he doubted it was very effective. Said angel lifted a glass of water to the Winchester’s parched lips, holding his shoulder still through the coughing fit which followed the few short gulps he could force himself to take. The glass left and a cool cloth was placed against his forehead as Cas helped him back down into the pillows. 

Though Dean tried to resist it, he couldn’t help but close his eyes at the slight relief the damp material offered. “..Didn.. Say..” the words were croaked before he had to stop, grimacing at the effort just saying that had taken. The cloth was dabbed a few more times on his face, removing the sweat that had built up there before being removed once more. 

"I know _you_. You didn’t have to say anything." The hunter could damn well hear the smirk on Castiel’s face and lifted a hand to try and hit him for the comment, but it was about as effective as a cat going after the light of a laser pointer. There was the sound of water splashing as the ex-angel dunked the cloth again, rinsing it of the gunk that had built up on Dean’s skin before wringing it out and placing it against Dean’s face again. 

All frustrated thoughts disappeared from Dean’s brain as soon as that cool material touched his skin, his entire body relaxing in appreciation. 

"Sam will be returning soon.. Get some rest Dean. I’ll wake you when he arrives." Castiel’s voice washed over him, but he didn’t hear the words, already drifting back into unconsciousness.

 


	6. Found a Treasure Map - None - Young Dean and Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is probably my favourite one so far. Let me know what you think?

Dean smiled at his work, okay, so it was paper dipped in coffee and then dried out, but it looked real enough and he had spent all of yesterday setting this up. John hadn’t been back in a few days and the days where his little brother would want to play along with something like this were getting fewer by the second. But kids liked this kind of stuff right? He would’ve loved it, if he ever had the chance. They had scored the abandoned house last week and would be staying there until John got back from hunting whatever it was he wouldn’t tell Dean about, despite being ten already and wanting desperately to help. 

Wiggling his loose canine with his tongue, Dean scrunched up the page one more time, for authenticity’s sake before rushing into the living room where he knew Sam would be colouring with the three pencils they’d managed to keep and not break over the past year. “Hey Sammy! Check this out” Enthusiastically, Dean handed the paper over to the wide eyed six year old who was staring up at him. Tiny hands took the browned page, gripping tight as his eyes scanned it. 

"A treasure map? Dean, is this real?"

"Sure is Sam.. What do you say, should we go find us some treasure?"


	7. Roller’s Choice - Rolled 60 - Mind Reader for a day - Little angsty nothing much - Dean and Sam (mention of Cas)

You’d think knowing what people were really thinking would be a good thing. Well Dean Winchester would like you all to know that you’re wrong, you’re absolutely and totally wrong. It had started insignificantly enough with the word ‘Jerk’ in Sam’s voice after Dean had stolen first go in the shower in their latest motel room. Of course, Dean, as always had replied “Bitch.” over the spray of the water, which had resulted in another “Jerk” from Sam. 

Not very creative, but the elder Winchester hadn’t thought much of it. It wasn’t that weird for either of them not to be able to come up with a decent comeback first thing in the morning. After the shower though, things started getting weird. He had walked out of the bathroom to _‘Damn Jerk, better not have used all the hot water’_ , to which he had replied;  ”Whatever Samantha, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” 

There was a pause and Dean had turned to see his brother open and close his mouth in confusion before frowning. “Dean.. I didn’t say anything. I thought that. How are you..?” The older brother shook his head dismissively and began to chuckle. “Sam.. Really? This isn’t even-“

 _'DEAN I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR THIS I AM NOT JOKING, OKAY?!_ ' well, that had interrupted that pretty darn succinctly. “Okay, so what the hell?” 

"I don’t know Dean."

"No, seriously, What the hell?"

 _'I. Don't. Know. Dean.'_  

"Okay so we find out. No big deal. And stop doing that!" The elder hunter narrowed green eyes toward his brother, daring him to even think anything. 

"It’s not like I can help it, moron. Let’s just, think about this logically, see if we can’t find a way to get rid of it." Sam nodded, confirming his words, but then continuing in his thoughts _‘Spell? Maybe, Curse, cursed object, ghost sickness, this is going to be a nightmare.’_

"Well thanks for the vote of confidence, and seriously dude, quit it." Sam smacked him on the arm before walking to the door. 

"It’s  _thinking_  Dean.. Not as if I can help it over here.” 

From there they had to see whether it was just Sam that Dean could hear, or if it was everyone. They quickly established that he couldn’t hear anyone in the rooms next to them, but that was no guarantee. So, together they had gone to the front desk and it had seemed that Dean could hear that guy, and boy, was he depressed. So as long as they were close and could see each other? Maybe? That they could deal with, Dean had had plenty of practice staying the hell away from people over the years after all. 

"Okay, you stay here.. I’ll go and do some research, see if I can find any other cases, call me if anything changes. Okay?" Sam had said, before leaving him alone and promising to bring him some food later. 

The first couple of hours were fine, music on, a few dollars graciously donated to the goddess of the magic fingers, the little zap from the bug catcher just outside the window, life was damn near good at that point. But then it started to get worse. It was the odd sentence at first an _‘Urgh.. do I really wanna go all that way for ice?’_ here and a _‘damn guy didn’t fix the AC’_ there.. It was nothing to worry about. Dean figured he was just catching people as they passed the window. 

By hour four it had escalated again, now he could hear every thought in the motel. Luckily there were only ten or so people, but still, it was annoying and no matter how loud he turned up his music, Dean could still hear them, clear as day. It was starting to give him a headache. The hunter had rolled over and called his brother, updating him on the situation, and if he could find some kind of solution in the next-I don’t know, Now- that’d be just great. 

By hour six of his supposed isolation Dean could hear the fleeting thoughts of every trucker and pedestrian that happened to be within one hundred feet of the place. That was a lot more voices and a lot less bearable. He had called Sam straight away and had barely been able to make out his brother’s words through the din that was beginning to swallow him. 

Within twenty minutes Sam was back at the door and though Dean could no longer make out his thoughts through the rest of them, the concern was clear enough on Sam’s features. They had gotten to the Impala, Sam behind the wheel, and driven the hell out of town, the younger brother apologizing for the short time they were near the main street and Dean’s ears had bled. 

Once they were a few miles out, the voices began to fade, back to the one or two truck drivers or the odd family and compared to motel, it had felt like sweet, sweet heaven. Of course, Winchester luck was never that good and after a few hours more peace, it had come back with a vengeance. It wasn’t just the local area any more, Dean didn’t even know how many people it was, it was just too many. So many voices that he couldn’t even hear himself scream or his brother’s panicked shouts trying to find out what was wrong. 

There was nothing but the unending din and it was growing. It felt like it was ripping his head apart, it was worse than an angel’s true voice, it was worse than the stomach cancer Zachariah had given him. He could barely feel his hands clamped to his head, though he knew they were there. Dean’s eyes were throbbing from the pressure, the dashboard in front of him was blurring, everything was white noise and panic. 

"Sleep Dean" were the only words he heard before he blacked out, into dark, silent bliss. 


	8. An Unlikely Pet - None - Sam, Dean + Special Guest

"Gotta hand it to you.. This is one cute little bastard." Dean poked the creature with his finger and the little thing seemed to poke back with it’s little paws, hands, whatever they were. "Feisty too." the hunter grinned as the thing clambered up his arm, setting itself on his shoulder to peer up at Sam. 

If the Winchesters didn’t know better they’d have both said that the thing was pouting. Dean made sure the little guy was gripping tight to the material of his shirt before wandering over to their bags, rifling through to get the creature something to eat. “Okay, so it’s not dangerous right? Hate to have to gank the little guy.” Dean said, grabbing a handful of M&Ms and giving the creature one at a time. 

"No.. Well the guy didn’t say.. But he did say there were rules."

"Rules? Like What?"

"No bright lights, especially sunlight. It’ll kill him."

This sounded awfully familiar.

"Don’t get him wet.." 

Where had he heard this before..?

"And whatever you do.. Don’t feed him after midnight." 

Oh..

"Son of a bitch!"


	9. Someone Gets Amnesia - Angst - Dean and Sam (Season 7)

There were upsides of being forgotten. No, really, there were. People who forgot you didn’t remember how you had failed them, had hurt them like Ben and Lisa. People who forgot you didn’t remember how they had hurt and failed you too, like Castiel, or Emmanuel as he had been called. There were definitely upsides. If Dean could give people that sense of peace and contentment, he’d give it readily, but he was also a selfish asshole and the one person he couldn’t bear to forget him was currently staring at him like he was a stranger. 

"Sam.. Please.. don’t do this. Not you."


	10. School Dance - Fluff - Human AU Dean and Cas

"This was a bad idea.. Dean, I wish to leave. We should leave." The music in the school’s hall was loud and tinny thanks to the poor acoustics, there were too many people in various states of intoxication. He couldn’t understand why they just couldn’t sit out with the Impala and share a few beers like they had done for every other dance that the school had arranged. 

Dean’s fingers tightened their grasp on Castiel’s hand, preventing him from bolting like he so desperately wanted to. “Just relax Cas.. It’s the last dance we’ll ever get to go to. Can’t leave school without it right?” The young Winchester cast a reassuring smile Castiel’s way and handed his date his flask for a nerve steadying drink. 

There were stares from the dance’s other guests, but most were just from shock that they had bothered to show up. The fact that Dean and Castiel were a couple wasn’t big news any more, but them actually coming to a dance and not blowing it off for some private make-out session and eighties rock by the impala? That was news. 

Dean could feel his boyfriend’s pulse where they were joined by the hand, the slight movement of him swallowing down liquor and the deep breath he took to steady himself. 

"So.. Shall we?"


	11. Take a Walk on the Wild Side - Dean & Sam (None)

It was all consuming, the in and out of Sam’s breath, the subtle sweep of his brother’s pulse, if he concentrated he could probably even hear the guy’s hair growing. He could already taste the blood in the air from the small nick that Sam had managed to get in the little scuffle they had been in. Dean was trying to keep his focus on keeping the fangs he shouldn’t have sheathed in his gums, but every second in the other hunter’s company was torture.

He needed to hunt, it was the only instinct he had that would overpower this almost need to drain his brother dry.

"Stop the car Sam.."

"What? Why?"

"Just stop the damn car!" Dean’s arm flew out in a rage, denting Baby’s door with a dull thud. The elder Winchester shuddered in apology, fingertips brushing uselessly against the damage, attempting to smooth it out with his regret alone.

Dean was out of the vehicle before it had stopped, just slowed enough that with his new reflexes he could exit without harming himself. Sam’s voice reached out to him, but he resolutely ignored it, sprinting into the wooded area surrounding them. Letting the smells and noises and sights around him in the poorly lit forest smother his new senses felt like a release. He could do this, all he had to do was find the asshole that did this to him and gank the bastard. Nothing too stressful, but first, he needed to get this blood lust under control.

Nostrils flared when the scent of blood reached them, fangs slowly pushing from his gum-line. It was scary just how good it felt to leave them out, green eyes narrowing at the dark foliage to try and spot the wounded creature stalking through the brush. With speed and grace he hadn’t been born with Dean managed to track the bear down to a creek. The creature was injured but alert, if anything it should sate the need for a kill. Poor thing wouldn’t really stand a chance and even though the hunter mentally offered the thing his apologies, a smirk was lifting on his face, tongue flicking against the protruding sharpened fangs.


	12. Love Spell - Opposites Attract - Dean, Sam and Female Third (Crack)

"I swear I didn’t know, Sam!" a very unfortunately familiar voice called through the bunker and Dean had instinctively cowered from it. He knew that voice, a nightmare was about to begin and the further he was from it the better. Sam’s voice, somehow, was even louder and boy did he sound pissed.

"I told you to be more careful!"

Pressing himself against the wall Dean held his breath as Sam and the practical puppy walked right by the door. Seriously, the longer he could avoid this, the better.

"If I knew it was there I wouldn’t have done it! You’ve got to help me!"

And yup, that was the beginning of a headache, Christ he was too old to be hiding in his own damn house, but still he waited until the footsteps were fading, Sam’s voice indicating that they were leaving the room.

"I don’t-! You’re just lucky no one got.." and that was all Dean heard before rounding the corner into the war room. Pausing at one of the desks the hunter retrieved a pack of painkillers, popping two before noticing the two glasses of water on the main table. Well it would save him the trip to the kitchen.

Halfway through downing the glass, the thing was pulled away from his face roughly by his younger brother, who had what could only be described as a look of horror on his face.

"…What?"

"Crap Dean, what did you  _do_? You really shouldn’t have drank that!”

"Bit late now, Genius!" What the hell did he drink? He went to turn away from Sam, but the grip on his wrist and the glass was strong enough to prevent him from doing so.

"You do not want to turn around right now, okay Dean? Just, just trust me on this.."

Why? Was she strategically holding out her hand so that if he turned he’d just happen to brush against her? It wasn’t him she was interested in anyway, right? The chick’s been on Sam like a fly on shit since, well, whenever the hell those stupid books started out. But the look Sam was giving him made him still. Okay so this was serious. No big deal, they’d dealt with serious before, but Sam, Sam looked downright terrified.

"Okay.." he started, nodding his head slowly so that Sam would follow his movements and actually begin breathing in a normal pattern again. "So what was it Sam? Venom? I haven’t grown two heads right?" the older hunter tried for a reassuring smile, but the expression on Sam’s face didn’t lighten, even a tiny bit.

"Deadly?" he tried again, swallowing the saliva that had built up with his increased nervousness. Still Sam said nothing, "Come on Sammy, you gotta give me something here.. I’m starting to freak out." And why the hell was she being so quiet? Usually it was near impossible to shut her up.

Suddenly the younger hunter’s eyes snapped up at something beyond Dean’s shoulder. “Becky! Don’t!” Dean had only a second to wonder what the hell Sam was freaking out about when a small hand palmed his ass through his jeans and _No!_

"Look, Princess!-" Completely missing the look of panic that crossed Sam’s face, he turned toward the perpetrator, "Pining after Sam here is one thi-" the words died on his lips as the woman came into view. Was she always this cute? When the hell did that happen? Luckily Sam’s grip on him had seemed to falter, so he could hitch her up, palms spread at the small of her back. He still had to lean down considerably to kiss her, but that didn’t seem to matter when her hands slid into the hairs at the back of his skull.

They only had a second or two of enjoyment before Sam was pulling them apart forcefully.

"God damnit Sam! I swear I will-" he started to threaten, before he glanced back at Becky, the fight automatically leaving him. He needed to kiss that again, right now. The elder hunter moved to push forward again, only to have the almost empty glass slammed back into his chest as Sam pushed him back into a chair.

"You’ll both thank me for this later.." Sam had promised him before drawing his hand back and hitting him squarely with the hand that wasn’t holding the glass.


	13. Vacation at a Resort Hotel Sam, Dean, Kevin, Charlie, Cas (None)

Sometimes he wondered why they didn’t take more vacations. Of course he knew why, he just sometimes wished they didn’t care so much and just took them anyway. Not as if they would’ve, not with demons, ghosts and monsters all over the place, but now? Now it was over, or this was a dream, or this was heaven (though heaven was all memories, right? Ah who cares), either way the break was good.

The warmth from the sun on his back was relaxing, just a shade shy of burning, so that whenever even the slightest breeze passed by he had to swallow a moan. This really was the life, eyes closed against his folded arms, he could still picture all that was going on around him. 

Lips lifted into a smile when he heard Kevin’s high pitched squeal and Sam’s laugh before the giant splash that was both of them tumbling into the deep end of the pool. Poor kid must have been terrified falling from that height, the last time he had seen them, Sam had had one too many pina coladas or whatever the hell girly drink he currently preferred and had the prophet up on his shoulders.

Charlie was tapping away at her ‘PDA’ as she had called it, to his right, occasionally pausing to check out that girl in the orange bikini who had passed them three times already, if the pausing of the tapping and the slight shadow that momentarily cooled his back was anything to go by.

They’d even, by some miracle, got Cas down here in trunks and aviators of all things and the last Dean had seen him he’d been serenely floating about in one of those giant inflatable rings staring at the sky.

He knew what was going to happen when the pool suddenly got very quiet and turned his face further into his arms to muffle the laugh he knew was coming. Then he heard it, someone breaching the surface of the water, the squeak of wet hands against dry rubber and he yelp of a certain angel before he tumbled into the water.

Yeah, this was the life.


	14. Stolen Diary - Dean, mentions of others (None/Slight angst)

Dean was thirteen when he had started his very own journal. He had done it to emulate his dad, of course, but he still didn’t know what his dad wrote in there, so he had taken to writing what he had seen other people write in theirs. Daily thoughts, opinions, that sort of thing. Okay, so his was more of a diary, but he really didn’t know any different back then.

It was a tatty thing really, a few pieces of paper strung together between two pieces of card he’d managed to swipe from a stationery cupboard at one of his old schools, but still he was proud of it. He’d write in it every day, just like dad, usually stupid stuff about school, teachers, the girls he liked or liked him, there were things about Bobby, Sam, his thoughts on his mom, just lots of useless shit, but he had treasured it as much as his father did his and never, ever let anyone else see it.

It only took him two years to realize that he had gotten it wrong, when he finally looked through Bobby’s old journals. It had made him rethink his life, he should have been putting down spells and training exercises and things about the monsters in the dark. Of course he’d gotten it wrong.

So he had quietly thrown it in the trash and started a new one, a proper one, using a book that Bobby had given him cause he really should have something a little more sturdy, so it could last just as long as he would.

He had thanked Bobby for the gift and promised him he would copy all of his notes over, but like hell he did. He had stayed up all night, writing everything he could remember that Bobby or Pastor Jim or his father had taught him. His writing wasn’t neat and his artistry was appalling, but it was something and he needed to have enough in there that Bobby would be convinced he actually had copied over all his notes.

The young hunter didn’t even think of the scraggy, dog-eared thing that was his first journal again until he was back at Bobby’s three years later. There it was, buried under books, but he could spot its flimsy, water stained cover a mile off. He’d snatched it back and gone to throw it away again before anyone could see how fucking stupid and naive he had been, what if Dad found it while him and Bobby were doing research? How the hell would he look his father in the eye?

Bobby had stopped him though, said some sentimental crap about it being important to him back then, what he had written, that it was important, even when you’re an adult, hell especially when you’re an adult in this game, to keep hold of those thoughts,  _'Like it or not boy, they're part of you_.’ he’d said and taken the crumpled diary back, pulling Dean into a hug as he’d begun to cry, from guilt or relief he still didn’t know.

But the old bastard had held him through it and carefully, almost reverently put the stupid thing in a safe in the basement, told him that it would always be there should he want it back one day. And maybe it was, maybe it had survived even the fire, but who knew, because Dean hadn’t been back there.


	15. 15 - Body Swap for a Day (Dean, Jo - Gen)

When he awoke, Dean found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, not unusual considering his lifestyle, but this wasn't a motel. The lack of tobacco stains and damp spreading across the surface gave it away. Slowly he reached for the knife beneath his pillow, frowning in confusion when the metallic surface failed to register against his fingertips. He sat up quickly, his hand brushing against the mattress and to his surprise catching against what could only be described as nothing.

  
"Ah! Son of a-!" the words died as he brought his hand up in front of his face. Those weren't his fingers, and those sure as hell weren't his fingernails. "Sam!" he turned to his right, where he remembered his brother falling asleep in the bed next to him, but there wasn't even another bed there. Wildly he jumped out of bed, stumbling when he realized that he didn't need to compensate for the way his knees usually spread. 

"Sam!" he tried again, only just realising that that wasn't his voice his hair never fell like that before and those certainly weren't his breasts. Breasts?! "Holy shit I've got tits!" his hands clamped over them the second the words left his mouth, fuck, he wasn't even wearing a bra. What the hell had happened to him?

  
"Mom?" In a panic Dean ducked at the side of his bed, peering out to see a thankfully familiar face poke through the door. "Mom, you okay?" Or maybe not. Jo, it was Jo Harvelle, and she was smiling, hunter family or not that kid was a demon. "You know!" Dean inclined his head as he got up, belatedly putting his hands back over his chest when Jo looked away in terror.

  
"Yeah no kidding, she called me the minute she woke up, over two hours ago. And for the love of god put a damn bra on or something!" Dean complied, searching through the drawers available to him for some kind of top he could just shrug on, finding one on the second attempt.

  
Feeling more at home now he knew that he wasn't in any immediate danger, yet anyhow, Dean smiled as he pulled the sweater over his, well er, Ellen's head. "Now Joanna Beth, your mom is an incredibly attractive woman for someone her age, you'd be damn lucky to even be half-"

  
"Dude, you're wearing my mom. And I'm so telling her you said that."


End file.
